By LAMAR THAMES

It is funny how intentions can sometimes lead down different paths. A couple of weeks ago, I went to

Tarpon Springs to see my Uncle Bob. On the return trip, I stopped in Cross Creek for a travel article on one of my favorite authors, Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings.

Coincidentally, I rediscovered a connection to another writer deserving attention, if for no other reason than she was a relative of mine. My uncle gave me a copy of a book by Mary Lou Whitfield, who wrote community columns for the Perry, Fla., News-Herald and Tallahassee Democrat for more than 30 years. That was longer than Rawlings’ tenure in her beloved Florida scrub, before her untimely death in 1953.

Whitfield was married to my grandmother’s brother on my mother’s side. I had known for years that she wrote columns for a newspaper near Tallahassee but it wasn’t until Uncle Bob loaned me his copy of the book, which contained some of her columns, that I realized how good she was. Not Rawlings’ good, mind you, but good nonetheless.

I wish I could say that I inherited her writing genes, but since I am an in-law, that doesn’t compute. The book is called “815 West Bay, Views from the End of the Street.” I am sure it won’t win a Pulitzer or be on any best-seller list. It is just a good collection of stories from Whitfield’s life in Perry, sort of like Rawlings’ accounts of her experiences in Cross Creek.

First let’s explore more of Rawlings’ homestead and then I will tell you a little more about Whitfield.

MARJORIE KINNAN RAWLINGS’ STATE PARK

The homestead where Rawlings wrote most of her major works, including her Pulitzer Prize-winning novel “The Yearling” and the book “Cross Creek,” basically a memoir, is on County Road 325, most readily reached from State Roads 301 and 20, right where a small creek flows between Orange and Lochloosa lakes. Thus the name, Cross Creek.

It is through Rawlings’ work that much of Cross Creek remains undeveloped and serves as a reminder of a different time and place.  It is now a part of the Florida State Park system and was designated a national historic landmark in 2006.

For many, Cross Creek is a return to grandma’s house, where outhouses, well water, screened porches

and wood-burning stoves were the norm, not items mostly seen in museums.

For Janet Leach, a recent visitor from Merritt Island, Fla., it is “what Florida had to be like in the old days.”

“I just love old Florida,” said Leach, who had stopped to get her state park passbook signed by the park ranger. “Cross Creek is a true treasure, so charming and peaceful. It is so pretty here, I could spend all day.”

Leach fondly recalled a relic of the past called an “ice box,” the forerunner of the modern refrigerator. “I remember those days well. It was such a treat to get a sliver of ice from the ice man,” who delivered the block of ice that kept the ice box cold.

Leach’s passbook was signed by Park Ranger Lee Townsend, himself a direct connection to the Rawlings’ era. He was born “down the road apiece” and his grandparents were well-acquainted with the famous writer.

“They thought highly of her,” he said, outfitted in a pair of 1920-era overalls and work shirt. “She gave a lot of people jobs and helped them out a lot.”

Townsend’s father and grandfather were commercial fishermen, scouring nearby lakes and rivers for catfish, turtles, and even an occasional gator, selling their wares sometimes to The Yearling restaurant nearby, named for Rawlings’ book.

He also gives gives guided tours of the house, given Thursdays through Sundays, carefully pointing out

different facets that Rawlings often wrote about.

“Now here’s the guest bathroom that she called ‘an evolution of comfort,’ ” Townsend told a group of tourists. It was the first house in the area equipped with indoor plumbing.

Moving from the guest bath to the guest bedroom, visitors had to step up, a condition Rawlings referred to as “not friendly to the aged, inebriated or absent-minded,” according to Townsend.

The guest bedroom had many famous occupiers, including Robert Frost, Margaret Mitchell and Gregory Peck. One member of the crowd whispered that Rawlings is rumored to have “bedded Ernest Hemingway here.” Townsend didn’t respond to that, but he made sure to point out the closet next to the fireplace in the living room that Rawlings modified to store “firewood in the bottom and firewater above.”

The Rawlings state park is definitely worth a few hours of reminiscing about how things might have been and how some still remember that they were. It is open from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. daily, except in August and September when it is closed for cleaning and maintenance. Tour reservations for large groups can be made for groups by calling 352-466-3672. Regular tours are given throughout the day Thursday through Sunday. Tours are $3 apiece and it costs $3 to just tour the grounds, a bargain for one of Florida’s unique tourist attractions.

MARY LOU WHITFIELD

I met my great Aunt Mary Lou and her daughter, Penny, at least once at a family reunion but didn’t get a chance  to talk with her at length about her writing. Uncle Bob remembers her as a “very nice woman,” and from the gist of her writing, she seemed all that and more. While not as gifted as Rawlings, “Her writing took my breath away in its E.B. White simplicity, laced with wisdom that I hope never goes out of style,” noted Mary Ann Lindley, an editorial page editor and columnist for the Tallahassee Democrat in an endorsement on the back of the book.

Indeed, I found  great delight in thumbing through the easy-to-read columns contained in the book, which is available through The Book Mart, 1708 S. Byron Butler Parkway, Perry FL 32348, 850-584-4969. The copy I received on loan from my uncle does not have a price on it, but it is a soft-bound book so it is probably very affordable if you are interested in reading it.

Whitfield, who died a couple of years ago at age 96, wrote about everyday life in Perry, first for the Perry News-Herald and then for the Tallahassee Democrat. She wrote with great clarity of her life in that small town and of family that extended back five generations. Included was a poignant tale of the help she offered three children, whose stepfather had been hospitalized with gunshot wounds from an incident at the traveling carnival where he worked and whose mother ran off with another carney worker.

She housed the children for two days until the local authorities located their grandparents and sent them on their way. When she put them to bed the first night, she asked them if they would like her to help them with their prayers and they said no, that their grandmother had taught them how to pray. Thinking about them later, she concluded they would fare well in the future, especially with such a strong role model as their grandmother. Similar homilies dot a book that so well chronicles the good things about life in Perry, similar to how Rawlings wrote about Cross Creek. If you get a chance, read it. I am sure you will like it.